The Zalbonian Incidents
by doodlerTM
Summary: Agent Nein is dispatched to rescue captives from an alien space station. Only one has survived - Vincent, who has unstable psychic powers unlike the Psychonauts have ever seen. When Sasha brings Vincent along to Whispering Rock, what adventures will ensue? And what nefarious plans do the Zalbonians have up their sleeves? Takes place four years after the events of the game.
1. Fade to White

**Classified Psychonauts Files**

Agent[s] on Duty: Sasha Nein

Mission Objectives: Find and extract six civilians thought to be aboard a Zalbonian science station. Obtain as much information as possible about Zalbonian plans.

Mission Background: Two months ago, six individuals from various backgrounds and locations were determined to have been abducted by the Zalbonians for reasons unknown. A pair of Psychonauts were dispatched two weeks after this incident and are currently MIA.

Additional Notes: The Zalbonians are a psychic race and therefore are extremely dangerous. Do not approach in any circumstance. Intel also suggests that the Zalbonians may be experimenting with the Saudoni, an organism of unknown origin thought to augment psychic abilities.

 _Good luck, Agent Nein._

Sasha Nein crept along the corridor, keeping an eye out for any Zalbonians. He'd been in the facility for several hours, and time was running out. Soon they were sure to notice that one of their own shuttles, retrofitted by the Psychonauts, was sitting in the docking bay. Sasha had already completed the information-gathering part of his mission; much of the data had been encrypted but he'd gotten what he could. Now he was following a strong psychic signal to where one of the captives might be held.

The cell block was almost completely empty. At the very end of the block, a scruffy-looking man lay on a bed built into the wall in one of the cells. The entrance was blocked off by a large force-field.

Without a Psycho Portal, Sasha couldn't determine the full state of the man's mind. However, he could probe gently to get a general idea.

Sasha took a step back. This mind was unlike any other he'd seen. Raw psychic energy emanated from it. Where could it be coming from? Sasha detected another mental presence. _That must be the Saudoni,_ he thought. The man got up from the bed. As he got closer, Sasha could feel the man reaching out toward his own mind. Sasha doubled up his mental defenses, but he knew the man had gotten a few stray thoughts. _He can't stop himself,_ Sasha realized.

The man shook his head. "You're thinking in German!"

Sasha shrugged. "It is rather useful. Do you speak German?"

But the man shuddered, crouching to the ground. He clutched his head, in obvious psychic discomfort. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I can't. Can't. Can't – focus!"

Sasha switched tactics. He spoke into the man's mind. _Concentrate on my voice._

The man lifted his head; his breathing slowed to a steady pace. He laughed. "You were thinking about how much you wanted a cigarette."

Sasha touched his arm and felt the nicotine patch under his clothes. It kept his addiction at bay but it just wasn't the same as a real cigarette. He sighed. _My name is Sasha, I'm a Psychonaut. We need to leave immediately. You must be Vincent, correct? Do you know where the others are?_

Vincent fell silent for a few moments. Sasha took a closer look at his face. There was something wrong with his left eye – where his pupil and iris should have been, there was a round, bulging black dot. It darted back and forth, independent of the right eye. It was the presence that Sasha had felt before.

The man spoke up at last. He stood up and said, "Yes, I'm Vincent. I... well, they're gone, y'know. Everyone else. _They_ killed them. Eventually. The Psychonauts, too. I'm sorry. Sorry. I have memory loss on top of everything else. It's a mess in here," He tapped his head.

Agent Nein struggled to hide his frustration. He was trained to prepare for the worst, but this was abysmal at best. To Vincent, he thought, _I'm going to help you. Tell me, do you think there is any way out of here?_ He examined the cell entrance – it opened by iris scan, so he would need a Zalbonian to get Vincent out.

"Well, they come in here ever so often to give me food."

 _How often?_

"I'm not sure. I think they switch up. Times, I mean. Try to confuse me." Vincent groaned and mumbled. "They don't have to try too hard, for that."

Sasha took a deep breath. He was very glad that headquarters had refused Raz's request to come on this mission. Even if he had had to deal with Raz's sulking about how he couldn't go into space. Sasha began to run through scenarios in his head: what could go wrong, what path they might take.

It felt like an hour had passed, but it was only a few minutes before Vincent said. "They're coming! Do something!"

In a split-second, Sasha focused his psychic energy and became invisible. The Zalbonian – a short creature with an oblong head that looked positively lizard-like, walked into the block. Veins bulged from its forehead. It muttered something in another language, fiddling with the controls.

Sasha took this opportunity to release a psy-blast. It took nearly all of his energy to focus. There was a loud cracking noise and the alien slumped to the floor. He grabbed the alien and put his eye up to the scanner. The force-field went down and Vincent stumbled out. Vincent grabbed Sasha by the arm and the Psychonaut instinctively drew back.

"Sorry," Vincent whispered. "I just... I thought I was going to die here."

 _We're not clear yet; we need to get back to the ship._ Sasha tried to remember the map schematics as they ran down the corridors. Alarms began to shriek around them. As they ran, he realized that there might be a problem in reaching the hangar bay. _He_ might be able to appear invisible but Vincent was a different issue.

They reached the doorway to the hangar bay. Agent Nein peeked around the corner to see two dozen or more Zalbonians waiting for them.

"There's so many," Vincent said, despite not seeing the Zalbonians.

 _emI know. We'll just have to make a break for it./em_

"I don't know if I can," Vincent said, panicking.

 _There are more coming behind us. We need to go, now!_ This time it was Sasha who grabbed Vincent's wrist and pulled him into the hangar bay.

They continued to run, Sasha attempting to maintain a shield on Vincent while also psy-blasting the Zalbonians around them. They were difficult to lock onto because they were so small.

About halfway across the docking bay, Vincent dropped to the ground. He clutched his head and began screaming. "So many minds! I can't! No!"

Sasha activated his own psy-shield just in time to be blown back by a immense explosion. He was thrown back fifteen or twenty feet and shut his eyes tightly to maintain the shield. When he opened his eyes again, there was a temporary pandemonium ensuing. Somehow, Vincent had used confusion grenades and accurate psy-blasts at the same time. Many of the aliens were down for the count, but a good number of them were stumbling around. Soon the confusion effect would wear off. Sasha knew he didn't have much time. He rushed over to Vincent, who was sitting up, looking very dazed.

"What did I do? What happened? I didn't mean to do anything!"

Sasha crouched down next to Vincent and assessed the situation. _You have very minimal control over your mind right now, that's why this happened._ He sighed and placed his hand on Vincent's temple. He'd never done this in such a high-intensity environment before. _I'm going to have to shut your brain down temporarily. It won't hurt._

"Are you sure?"

 _Trust me._

Vincent prepared himself for a black-out, but instead everything faded to white. It was as if someone had taken a soft eraser and blotted everything out.

"I guess this isn't too bad then."


	2. The Symbiote

Vincent was semi-conscious; he was lying in a hospital bed, hooked to machines. He felt the alien presence in his mind – uncomfortable yet increasingly familiar. Someone had placed a gauze patch over his left eye. In the corner, he saw a man a desk poring over paperwork. For the first time, the presence communicated with him in words. _Sasha_ , it said. Vincent's most recent memories were refreshed. He didn't want to think about it and closed his eye. He heard Sasha get up, saying, "Razputin, this is not a good time..."

He woke up again. It was dark except for a lamp shedding light on Agent Nein's desk. Sasha was slumped over his desk, sleeping.

Vincent heard someone enter the room. A female figure from the shadows shook Agent Nein awake. "Sasha darling, this is the second time this week! You need to take it easy!"

The third time Vincent woke up, he was fully conscious. He was alone in the room. No longer hooked up to any equipment, he pushed himself out of bed.

Vincent walked a few feet to a private bathroom. A towel, shampoo, razor and shaving cream, and a clean set of clothes sat on the corner of the sink. Vincent took a look at himself in the mirror. He looked alright; only his beard looked unkempt. Well, that's what the razor was for.

As Vincent showered, he wondered at how unusually calm he felt. He thought part of it might be that he'd been in captivity for two months, most of which during he'd been tortured and had very little control of his mind. Being awake and aware now was an incredible miracle in comparison. Plus the presence in his mind was quiet for the most part. It wasn't forcibly powerful like it had been when he had been kidnapped by the aliens.

He got dressed – an orange polo and jeans. It was the type of clothing he'd worn before he'd been kidnapped. He shrugged. _Guess the Psychonauts did their research._

Vincent shaved, leaving a small goatee. He found it difficult to adjust with only one eye, but in the end he thought he did a good job.

He wandered back into the hospital room. The door out of the room was locked; he checked the desk but it was cleared and the drawers were locked. Just as well.

Vincent noticed something odd. There was a pile of _True Psychic Tales_ comic books and a pamphlet for a summer camp on his nightstand. No cards or flowers.

As he was pondering this, Agent Nein entered the room. "Oh good," he said, "you're conscious. How are you feeling? Your psyche was almost damaged beyond repair. We had to place you in a coma for a few weeks."

Vincent shrugged. "I've been better, but I guess I'm not so bad." He unconsciously moved his hand up to his eye.

"That reminds me." Sasha reached into his pocket and handed Vincent an object – a black leather eye patch.

Vincent's hands shook a little as he tied the string tight around the back of his head. "Ugh, I bet I look like some kind of pirate. Or a rugged war hero."

A new voice replied to his comment. "You were in a war, son! A war of the mind! And you won. Don't you forget it!" A stout man wearing army regalia had entered the room, shouting.

Sasha turned toward the little man. "Vincent, this is my colleague, Morceau Oleander." Though Vincent nearly had to crouch to shake Oleander's hand, he felt the circulation in his hand get nearly cut off.

"Good to meet you, soldier."

Sasha clasped his hands together. "Did you need me for something, Morry?"

"Truman said that he wanted to see you ASAP!"

"Certainly."

"Also I wanted to make sure you were in fighting spirit. Camp is in a few weeks, you know! Agent Vodello seemed worried about you, too."

Agent Nein brushed a bit of hair away from his place. "I can assure you that I am doing just fine. And of course I'm preparing for camp." Vincent didn't think he sounded that convincing.

Oleander squinted in minor disbelief. "Well, if you say so." He saluted both Vincent and Sasha and walked out of the room.

Vincent watched the doorway where Oleander had left. "So what's up with him?"

Sasha shook his head. "Morry has a long and... colorful history. Besides, I'm sure there are more pressing issues you would rather discuss." Vincent went over and sat on the bed, while Sasha continued standing. "Unfortunately I don't have time to explain everything right now, but I should be able to answer a few questions that you might have."

Vincent felt overwhelmed with everything that he wanted to ask. His head pounded and he felt the Saudoni, which had been momentarily quiet, buzzing with psychic energy. "So tell me a little bit about this, uh, psychic parasite that I have, then."

"Symbiote," Sasha corrected sharply. "The Saudoni augments your existing psychic abilities while in turn, it feeds off of excess energy and emotions produced by your brain."

"But I don't _have_ psychic abilities."

"Of course you do. Everyone does. It simply comes down to how strong they are." He paused a moment before continuing. "Has it tried to communicate with you?"

"Well, kind of. It seems more like it's, uh... absorbing information. Right now."

Sasha nodded. "That makes sense. However, I must warn you. Your emotions directly affect the symbiote and subsequently, your psychic powers. If you experience strong emotions, it will be more difficult to regain control of your mind."

"Is that what happened while we were on the ship?"

"Partially. The Saudoni was also forced upon you, without either yours or the symbiote's consent. It caused your mind to become extremely unstable."

Vincent shrugged. He looked back over at the empty nightstand. "Can you tell me when I'll be able to see my family and friends? I mean, I get the understanding that this is probably a classified facility. And I'm willing to help you guys. But, no offense, I don't want to stay here forever."

Sasha turned away, walking to shut the door. "I cannot give you a definite answer of when you'll be able to see them. If at all. That would be the decision of the head of the Psychonauts, Truman Zanotto. Besides, you need to learn how to control your psychic abilities first."

"And the aliens. The Zalbonians," Vincent offered.

Agent Nein nodded. "Yes, that is also one of our top priorities."

Vincent clutched his head, the Saudoni echoing in his mind. _Lie,_ it said.

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Finally, Sasha took a key out his pocket and, using telekinesis, opened one of the desk drawers. A newspaper clipping floated from the drawer into Vincent's hands. Sasha frowned. "I was hoping to avoid this so soon, but you do have the right to know."

The headline blared, **Tavern Destroyed in Massive Fire.** "Vincent Aplin, 28, the owner of the establishment, is missing and presumed dead," Vincent read aloud. He felt his stomach drop. A sour taste came into his mouth. He looked back at Sasha. "Please don't tell me that everyone I know thinks I'm dead." But even as he said the words, he knew they were true. He remembered the fire and knew that the Zalbonians were behind it. The realization that his old life, for all intents and purposes, was over, burned like a sick flame through him.

Vincent crouched to the floor, grabbing his head in both hands. The comic books on the nightstand flew across the room; the lightbulb in the lamp on the desk shattered. The florescent lights overhead shook. Agent Nein rushed over to Vincent, but an immediate psychic shield projection prevented him from getting too close. He pushed back as Vincent began levitating him in the air.

Sasha turned his head to watch the desk burst into flames. "Dammit," he muttered. "The _one_ time we don't have it fireproofed..."

Vincent was screaming. Sasha yelled above him. "Listen! You must focus! Concentrate!" The last thing he wanted to do was get into a psychic battle with an unstable, untrained mind. Sasha psy-blasted through Vincent's shield, temporarily breaking through.

Vincent looked up and remembered something his best friend had told him once. _Emotions can only distort the truth._ The truth, in this instance, was devastating.

He let down his psychic shield, though the rest of the pandemonium continued to ensue around him. Sasha knelt beside him. A number of emotions that were neither his nor the symbiote flowed into his mind. Peace, _order_ , control. His own feelings of grief, loss and anger were still present and strong, but the new emotions were present as well. Vincent slowly began gravitating toward the more positive emotions.

He stood up. Slowly but surely, everything became still. The desk was no longer on fire but was smoking slightly.

Sasha adjusted his glasses. "I was afraid that would happen. Still, you did remarkably well."

Vincent was exhausted. "What did you do?"

"Many psychics have second sight – that is, they can see, hear, and feel the images, thoughts, and emotions of another person. I used it in reverse – I added my emotions to yours." Sasha sighed. "Generally I would never do that. That power has a lot of room for abuse. But that was an extreme situation."

"Thanks. I guess." Vincent didn't want to think anymore. "I'm going to sleep."

"You should. I'd imagine your mind could use some rest."

Vincent laid down on the bed. This time, he really did black out.

Some time later, Vincent woke up. There was a teenager sitting in a chair, using telekinesis to solve a Rubik's cube that was floating in the air. He was wearing red goggles and an aviator's helmet. When he saw that Vincent was awake, he floated the Rubik's cube back in his palm and pulled his goggles back up on his head.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Razputin, but everyone calls me Raz."


End file.
